Random Thoughts from my "Vacation".

So, I am in the middle of this self-imposed vacation. One job has ended. In theory, another one is ahead of me. I am in the in-between time right now. I am uncertain of how much influence I have over my future. So, I wait. On this "vacation". Within my own home. Maybe next week will give me some direction on where I am heading and what is next for me.

In the in-between time, these are the things that I am doing, saying and thinking...

I watched "A History of Violence" tonight and I thought it was pretty good. I watched it because A.) I wanted to clear room on my DVR and B.) I wanted to add an entry to the cover page of this blog. Some new media watched. All in all, I thought it was all right. For a melodrama. People shooting each other. People crying and vomiting because of their anxiety. Sex in costumes and for unlikely reasons. High drama. It felt like a million miles away from life, as I know it, but then that's escapism for you. I kept thinking that if I were in Viggo Mortenson's position, I would probably be quieter than he is and sadder too.

This morning, I had breakfast with a good friend. I don't know what was better, the biscuits and gravy from Wishbone or the discussion which followed. We have differing opinions about the role of God within our lives. And for the first time, I didn't feel like either of us was fighting to argue our sides. We explained our perspectives, but there was no challenge there that ours was the definitive view of the mechanics of the world. So, that was nice. We are both agreed though, that we're 2000+ years into this oddly jingoistic culture that actively works to suppress the divinity of womanhood, the holiness of motherhood and instead works to supplant man as the Allfather. In everything. Culture, media, family structure. John Lennon said it best, "Woman is the Nigger of the World." That seems to be a damned shame to me.
This is, apparently, what I discuss over breakfast. Be forewarned.

I am entirely without schedule, right now. I stay up late. I sleep late. I nap, midday. I woke up this afternoon, sweating because a hound-dog had backed her big, warm bottom right up to my face and napped next to me. I didn't know where I was. Or how I fell asleep. Or what day it was. I had to get up and walk around a bit and check things out, to get some bearing. I don't know if all this sleep is depression or unemployment or "the vacation". I thought vacations involve more activity than this.

I did enjoy a few hours or sheer pleasure on Friday, in my empty apartment, 100% aware of the fact that I did not have to be at work anymore. I hated that job. I enjoyed the fact that I wasn't in the office. And those poor bastards that I left behind, were. On the same day, a good friend of mine at the office, was going to put in his two weeks notice. I enjoyed the knowledge that THAT bomb was being dropped mid-day. Three losses to the office in less than two weeks. In an office of less than ten people, that's a lot of changeover in a very short time. If I were still there, I would be fucking miserable.

While I stumble through the sweater-jacket morass of this "vacation", I exist by making one deadline after another. Yesterday, all I had to do was make it to my show. And after that, get drinks with Hendo. Today, I had incubator auditions, but I called off from them. Not feeling mentally healthy enough to spend hours in a theater, watching newbies screech and scream on that stage. I just couldn't tolerate that. Tomorrow, I have laundry to do (should've done it today) and rehearsal in the afternoon. I had plans to go see Ghost Rider, but that looks to be a two-hour, CGI turd. So, maybe not. I think that the next week is even less scheduled and I am therefore looking forward with great anticipation to my job interview on Friday.

I need to drink less soda. I drink almost nothing but water, these days. Joe and I don't stock soda in the house. If we have it, we'll drink it. So, we avoid it. I drink a lot of water. I bet this face will slender down and this body will deflate a bit, with less soda in my life.

I have to remember to thank Ryan Gilmour for the copy of Horatio Hornblower that he gave me for my birthday. I love it. The language is accessible and if you've seen "Pirates of the Carribean" and "Master and Commander" then you know enough nautical terminology to handle the Hornblower series. I can see the methodical construction of the epic hero happen, a page at a time. For example, there's this guy on the boat, Simpson, who torments and abuses the young, timid Hornblower. I suspect that there will come a time when Hornblower will either best this man and overcome his presence in his life or earn his respect and make a life-long friend and ally. For my money, I prefer the second possibility. There's something uniquely American and blatantly optimistic about heroes forging allies from enemies. Isn't that what a hero should do?

One more thing and then I'll slap a picture up here and call this entry "done". I am giving very serious thought to becoming a Chicago cop. I have all the paperwork here in the apartment. I printed it all out on Wednesday. It's a test of how well you know me, that that statement either surprises you or makes perfect sense. The more logical and possible it sounds, the better you actually know me.

Think about that.

Off to a long, hot shower and then to delete a bunch of silly, unnecessary porn from this computer. Both tasks are long overdue.

Cheers,
Mr.B